Why Are You My Remedy?
by BEWinters
Summary: Sherlock winds up in rehab, and already after a week, he hates the dreadful place. But, a mysterious and rather sassy woman manages to catch his attention. Will Sherlock manage to stay clean and get out with his usual demeanor? Or will this woman snag his heart?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: **New Arrivals**

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello! I surprisingly am starting another fanfic! Sherlolly in rehab! Because what's more romantic than that? Anyways, nope. Don't own the babies that are Sherlock or Molly.**

**Also, discretion is advised considering this deals with drugs and addiction.**

**Enjoy my Sherlollians!**

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"Welcome to Sunnyville! I am Dr. John Watson, and I will be your counselor for the evening."

Sherlock wore his usual navy blue hoodie over his head and awfully stained jeans with colors ranging from white to red.

He was, once again, in a rehab center.

Yes, he's taken visits to Sunnyville (ugh, what a stupid name) at least 45 times. Maybe more, mainly, he just sent someone from his Homeless Network to do the job... But this time, he decided he'd just give in.

Now they were actually talking to him. Trying to understand his... Feelings...

_Someone shoot me now, _Sherlock thought to himself.

"Ehem, what was that?" The doctor, John Watson, asked out.

Oops, guess he hadn't just thought that.

Everyone turned to him with raised eyebrows, all their eyes red and a bit discolored, even a bit glossy. Paled skin. Shaggy unruly hair... Everyone was a mess.

"I said... Shoot... Me... Now..." Sherlock rumbled in his deep voice, sneering at the preppy man.

Wearing a white and blue flannel shirt, hair all nice and neat, upbeat attitude, because drug abuse was something to be happy about.

"No problem." A female voice mumbled back. Sherlock glanced over at the female.

She seemed even gloomier than the rest.

Chestnut brown hair barely pulled up in a ponytail, deep bags under her eyes, skin even more pale than a newly washed white sheet, yet in someway she still seemed quite attractive.

"Now now, ladies and gentleman, I understand-" John tried to calm the mutters from the little circle they were in.

"What? Wouldn't it save you the time and money if I did?" This woman piped back, arms crossed as she leaned against a book case. Watson squeezed the crook of his nose in annoyance, and with a gruff replied.

"No, it would get you arrested, again, and him dead. Which would make his family sue us, which would be terrible, and we'd loose our business therefor, my time AND money."

The woman rolled her eyes

"Wouldn't that be a shame."

Sherlock smirks a little and sits up.

"You've been to jail?" Sherlock asked with curiosity. Hmm... She didn't seem like the type. She was skinny, seemed like the kind to hide behind a book or paperwork rather then be a street slum.

The woman chuckles and looks down to him, turning away from the wall she was staring at.

"Yep. Got arrested for selling booze to a bunch of underaged kids in an alleyway. Then after I got bailed out from my friends, I got arrested for drunk driving. You?"

Sherlock sighs and leans back, shrugging as he continues to smile.

"Not jail, just a bunch of drugs."

Molly sighs as well as she sits, a few people nodding.

"That why you're here?" Sherlock asks, hands behind his curly black hair, not touched with a brush since he arrived a week ago.

"Nope." Molly replied simply, pressing her lips together.

Sherlock tried to deduce, but after the agonizing week of detox, he couldn't think straight...

"So... Back on track now are we?" John Watson claps his hands together, still looking rather angrily annoyed.

Everyone moaned in agreement, and John nodded.

"Right then-"

Sherlock looks to the woman sitting a few empty seats away from him in the circle they were in.

"Sherlock."

He reaches out a hand.

The woman looks over and raises an eyebrow.

"Molly."

She doesn't shake his hand though, merely crosses her arms covered by an overgrown green jumper, and looks back to the counselor.

"Now, where were we?" He asks the group.

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**There it is. Sorry if it's a bit... Eh. Hopefully it'll pick up! But for now, comment and like it up! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello fellow Sherlollians! Chapter two is here! Yay! :D**

**Note: I do not own the babies that are Sherlock, Molly, or any other Sherlock character**

**Also, viewer's discretion advised, this does deal with drugs and such.**

Sherlock sits at the ashy grey cafe table, messing around with the food on his plate.

His head spins both up, down, left, and right, swirling vibrant colors in his mind... It sucked terribly, being away with what took away his pain, and his eyes glossed over as he just thought of it... The powder, the smell, the feeling it gave him... Like he could jump off a building and fly.

Everyone in the lunchroom were talking, looking like they were feeling better, while he looked like he was hit by a bus.

As his thoughts were crowded by the villainous thoughts of his drugs, he all of a sudden hears the usual shouting of the small man known as John Watson.

"MS HOOPER, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!"

Sherlock groggily turns his head away from the vulgar creamy yellow eggs and meat that made him want to throw up, and sees Molly leaning against the wall, a cigarette between her long slender fingers, and in between her thin rosy pink chapped lips.

"Having a smoke, what are you doing?" She snaps as she lets out a puff. A bunch of people sped out of the room as she merely raised an eyebrow at John.

John lets out a puff, and runs his fingers through his short blonde hair.

"Where did you even get that?" He shakes his head as he takes the cigarette, and throws it on the floor.

Molly watches the ashes underneath John's brown leather shoes with a longing, and looks as if she was in a trance.

"Someone gave em to me." She says slowly, thinking about each word.

John shakes his head, searching her pockets for the pack.

When he pulls out the red pack, he trashes them and pinches the bridge of his nose once he comes back in front of her.

"Ms. Hooper, what did I tell you about-"

"Here." Molly hears a voice, and turns to see Sherlock handing her another pack.

The tall man, with the glossed over eyes and the ugly trampled clothes, was being nice today.

"Can't embrace the day without a smoke." He looks at John with a smug little smile, and pockets his hands.

"Good morning." And steps away back to his table.

Molly pouts her lips as John looks at Molly with a bit of a puff.

"What am I going to do with you two?" He gives up and walks away.

Molly turns her head to look at Sherlock, and slowly makes her way to him.

Sherlock continues to mix around the food that made him want to throw up, and doesn't notice the red colored pack being set on the table.

"Thanks."

Sherlock looks up with a surprised expression, and puts the pack back into his pocket.

"For what?" He asks with a bit of an expression that feigned cluelessness.

Molly saw this and rolled her eyes.

"For standing up for me."

Sherlock waved it off.

"I was doing nothing of the sort. I know you can handle yourself. I was just giving an addict another addiction to piss off our favorite counselor."

Molly smiled a little, and Sherlock swore he saw a bit of an innocence in it.

"You want to get a coffee?" Molly asked, and Sherlock shrugged.

"Black, two sugars. I'll be in my room."

Sherlock grunted as he stood up, and Molly groaned.

"I meant with me."

Sherlock once again was taken by surprise as he turned around, and squinted his eyes at her, trying to make a deduction but failing.

"I'm sorry, but I believe that's against the rules here." Sherlock smirked as he took a step closer to this mystery woman.

Molly, with her baggy eyes and messy hair, took a step forewords and smirked back.

"And since when were you for following the rules, Mr. Holmes?" Molly jokes right back, and this makes Sherlock chuckle.

He steps closer, and Molly looks almost confused as he leans down to meet her face with his, and whispers.

"And since when did you start breaking them?"

Sherlock saw that Molly's eyes had dilated, and Molly saw how shocked he looked in this moment.

"Excuse me, but we have group soon. Have to... Prep myself."

And with that he spins on his heel and drifts away.

Molly stood there bewildered, watching the poorly dressed man leave.

"Molly Hooper, what have you got yourself into?" She asks herself aloud.

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter a little more than the one before this!**

**Comment and like! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello! Thank you to all who have followed, liked, and reviewed! It means the world to me, and you know who you are you awesome people you ;)**

**So yes! Sorry that each chapter is so short, it seems longer when I write it xD**

**But i'll do my best! I promise *pinky promises you* so yes... Let's get this on the way.**

**DISCLAIMER: You know it, characters are not mine (well, they're in my basement but i'm feeding them, don't worry) annnnnnd wellll... Moffat can't have them until he promises not to throw them off buildings, ok? I just have a lot of emotions...**

Sherlock's fellow rehab buddies all sat in a little room filled with tables and chairs, a small little table was full of lemonade, coffee, cookies, and other little snack food that looked much better than breakfasts.

He sat alone as family members all visited their children, wives, husbands, or siblings who were doing them proud by getting better.

Mycroft told him he was busy, his parents were out somewhere, and well... He had no one else.

John sat beside him, and looked at what Sherlock was doing.

He was drawing in a printed out picture of a dog, coloring it a deep red color with a crayon.

"No family coming to visit you?" John asked Sherlock out of curiosity. Sherlock nodded.

"Contrary to popular belief, I am a bit of a... What you would call a loner." Sherlock replied without looking up.

John looked over his client, who had actually changed into a loose grey t-shirt, clean jeans, and converse for once. App laundered and everything.

He had actually waited for his family to visit, it would seem.

"Well, you aren't the only one. I don't have much family either. Except my wife."

Sherlock looked up at the man with a confused expression.

"Oh... Um... Ok." He squints his cyan eyes, and John merely chuckles.

"Contrary to popular belief, i'm not always an ass. It would seem we're both alike." They both smile, and that's when Molly walks in. Sherlock's eyes followed her, and dropped back to his little drawing.

Molly walks in with a man, who dressed in a black leather jacket, purple tee, black pants, and black tennis shoes.

His hair was shaggy and curly, much like Sherlock's only a bit of a lighter color.

John notices Sherlock's change of behavior, and clears his throat.

"One thing that happened to me with Mary, was that she was seeing somebody when I wanted to date her. Easy thing was, she didn't particularly... Like him. He was a bit of a trouble maker."

Sherlock looks up and furrows his eyes.

"And that's relevant how?" He asks, running his thumb over the paper on the crayon.

"Because... Not everyone is good for everyone." He coughs a little, trying to give his new friend a sign.

Sherlock looks around confused, his eyebrows lifted and lips forming a frown.

"Ok?"

John groans out angrily, and nods his head towards Molly and the man outside.

"Go."

Sherlock shakily gets up and John takes the drawing and continues it for his friend.

"But-" Sherlock tries to back out.

"Go to her. I'll finish this drawing for you."

Sherlock frowns and pockets his hands, walking past some people with family, and once again feels like a loner, a person with no friends or family.

Molly leaned against the brick wall outside, and Tom, her ex boyfriend, paced around.

"He threw them out?" Tom asked incredulously, scoffing and sighing in annoyance.

"Yes. That was the only pack Wiggins had... He couldn't get his friend to buy him more. I'm telling you, it isn't easy in there!"

Tom rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Molly..." He said her name as if it belonged to a disease. Turning to her, he put his hands on her arms.

"Look... I know it isn't easy in there, but was it MY fault you were selling to underaged kids?"

"You told me to..." Molly turned her head to look down at the cement. A little ladybug was crawling away to the grass and Molly felt as big as the little creature. Trying to scurry away from everything.

Tom grabbed her chin a bit harshly and turned her face to face him.

"Well... How about drunk driving? All the clubs... All the dealing... It wasn't my fault that the first drink, the first puff, got you there."

Molly pressed her lips together and could feel the tears, but didn't dare let anything drop.

"But it was your fault no one helped her." A familiar voice carried out, intelligent and cunning. Different than it was before.

And Molly turned to see Sherlock Holmes standing there.

Tom stepped away from Molly, who merely stayed in her same position, and Tom looked this new guy over.

"Yeah? She's a tough one... She could've done it herself."

Sherlock stepped towards the man, and walked in a circle around him. Tom's eyes followed him as he was circled.

"Well of coarse... But let's not forget the fact that not everyone... Is as strong as they make play to seem. The dogs with the loudest bark are the ones who are most afraid after all." Sherlock says lowly, and throws a pack in the air for him to catch.

Tom barely manages to catch it, but when he does he looks it over.

"Take it. For free. I don't need them. I'm in rehab after all, might as well get rid of a few other addictions." He shrugs, and takes Molly's hand.

Molly blushes at the sight of this all, and Sherlock could also feel her shakiness.

It was quite the picture too, such a large hand holding such a small one. From just this touch, he felt the weight of the world emanating from her, but also a past, one that was much different than what it seemed.

Pulling her aside, he clears his throat and raised an eyebrow.

"Now that you have your cancer sticks, I suppose business here is done?"

Tom looks over the pack once more, and shrugs.

"Why don't you just buy them yourself?" Sherlock asks, his face scrunched up as he tries to deduce.

Tom grows a bit shriveled up, as if embarrassed which Sherlock finally makes his first deduction after a week or so.

"Broke. Ah. Very well then. Off we go." He pulls Molly away from the bad man, and inside.

Molly watches Tom shrink away, a cigarette in his mouth, and then the door close behind her.

And that's where everything began to change.

John watches the two with a little smile, and finishes Sherlock's unfinished masterpiece.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry if it was too long this time, I just decided to let it all out this time xD**

**So sorry, but yes! Yay! Third chapter complete! :D**

**Like and review! And tell me how this length was this time :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had PLANNED to put out another chapter but it all deleted and it was midnight and my inspiration was zilch!**

**But thanks to the amazing sherlolly_pop on IG she gave me this awesome idea! :D**

**So here it is, a hopeful fluffy scene.**

**DISCLAIMER: Yes. I am Moffat writing Sherlolly fanfiction, of coarse!**

***sassy drunk Sherlock Z formation***

**ANOTHER NOTE: I am wearing fake nails (cause they're awesome) and well... If there's any mistakes with spelling... It's cause my finger barely touches the screen so yeah.**

Molly was walking back to her room with a counselor named Mary, who was evidently John Watson's wife.

As they talked of life and inspirations, Molly felt a large hand wrap itself around hers and pull her in the opposite direction.

"Wha-"

"Shh. I don't want you to get caught." Sherlock whispered while Mary confusedly searched for Molly.

Molly shut up and followed. Merely because she trusted him. After what he did for her, how could she not? He had saved her, and for what price? None, he didn't ask for anything in return, in fact, he had merely brought her back to a seat, gave her lemonade, and left that day.

Molly was confused as it was now two days after his valiant rescue that he decided to make any contact with her at all...

As they darted counselors, and security, Sherlock and Molly finally made it to his room.

"How did you know we wouldn't get caught?" Molly asks in a hushed tone, as if she was afraid to wake a child.

Sherlock smirks and merely winks with a low baritone like voice that melted Molly's heart.

"I didn't."

Sherlock opens his door, and allows Molly to enter his humble abode.

It was filled with little doodles covering the wall, minimal clothing stashed in the closet, no special blankets or pillows, no special combs or brushes, no special stuffed animals, nothing. Just clothes and little arts and crafts littering the room, you'd barely think anyone lived here.

"It's so..." Molly tried to think of a word to describe it.

"Empty. I like to think of it as my personality."

Molly smiles sadly at the joke while Sherlock grinned at her.

"Your personality is fine. I'd just like to see more of it."

Sherlock snickers as he sits on his bed, and lets out a little smile.

"I'm afraid this is it, really." They both look around, and Molly makes her way to his makeshift desk.

Scattered around were photos of him and his family, shots of a young curly haired boy with a big red dog laying around.

"This your dog?" She asks as she runs a finger over the animal.

"Yes. Erm..." Sherlock grows a bit uncomfortable at the thought of her seeing his pictures. They were special to him. They were his saving grace when he felt low.

"He's beautiful." She mutters, and smiles at the only smile she's ever seen on the man in the photo of him with his dog... It was a beautiful smile, if only he'd share one with her.

"Um... Thank you." Sherlock replies, toying with his fingers as he sat there and watched Molly see a bit into his life.

"What's his name?" Molly asks, looking at the doodles on the wall, of skulls to butterflies, all as if from coloring books. Save for a doodle of a yellow smiley face.

"Redbeard." Sherlock answers after a moment. He sighs it, as if it gave him a moment of feeling human...

"Mmm." Molly nods, and finally makes her way to sit down beside Sherlock, a tad closer than usual. Sherlock liked the feeling of her knee touching his while they both sat criss cross applesauce.

"I had a cat. Toby was his name."

Sherlock once again grows confused, but merely nods his head.

"Yeah... Dad gave him to me. He died soon after, and so did my cat. Was never home to feed him."

Sherlock sees the doodled version of Redbeard, and rests his hands on his knees to steady himself.

"Redbeard was the only thing to make me feel happy."

Molly looked at Sherlock with surprise, was he truly sharing all this with her? You could see the effort it took to say just that... As if it pained him to even mention his dog... Or maybe it was just his life that was hard to talk of.

"No one else? No one else made you happy?" Molly asked as she searched for his face hidden away in a shell.

Upon looking up, Sherlock's eyes were a bit puffy.

"No one else thought I was human." Sherlock muttered lowly, and Molly rested a hand on his shoulder.

It was foreign, this touch, her hands always helped him deduce about how much of a gentle soul Molly Hooper was.

Molly noticed how tense Sherlock was and pulled away, only to have Sherlock take her hand and hold it.

"Tell me, Molly... Do you think i'm... Human?"

Molly looked into Sherlock's eyes, glowing a deep blue in the night hours. Like their own miniature stars... She searched them for a few moments, her fingers squeezing his, reassuring him without words that yes, she did believe he was human.

As she stared into his blue eyes for reassurance and protection, he deduced her own dilated ones for her past, her true colors.

What did she see? A freak?

And what did he see? A simple addict?

Or more?

Sherlock's eyelids began to droop, and Molly's followed suit, their faces were inching closer and closer, they could feel their breathing on each other's lips until...

There was a knock on the door.

Molly flies back in fright. Sherlock merely turning towards the noise.

They hadn't noticed how close their own faces were... But their blushing says otherwise.

"Sherlock? May I have a word?" Called John Watson through the door, until it opens and John Watson finds Molly Hooper in Sherlock Holmes's bed!

"Oh." Molly exclaims in embarrassment.

"Don't you understand privacy?!" Sherlock exclaims in anger.

"WHY IS THERE A WOMAN IN YOUR BED?!" John exclaims in confusion.

"It wasn't what you think."

"You're a man, figure it out!"

"IT'S AGAINST THE RULES!"

"We were just talking!"

"Well the Earth wouldn't be populated if it was against the rules..."

"GET OUT!"

Molly blushes madly as she scurries out and back to her room like an obedient servant of some sort.

Sherlock watches her go with a bit of a longing... What had just happened?

"Sherlock Holmes..."

"Oh do calm down, John. We were only talking."

John scoffs and shakes his head.

"I'll trust you on that." And with that he takes his leave.

"What did you want?" Sherlock calls out, and is answered with.

"Good night!"

Sherlock lays back with a light

"Oooookkkkk..." And closes his eyes.

Finally, just finally, he'd found someone to actually believe in him... Molly Hooper.


	5. Chapter 5

**AUTHOR'S NOTE!: Hello yet again! You guys are just rolling in and i'm so happy! :D *hugs you all* thank you for all the comments and just keep doing it cause I love them all! And don't be afraid to request anything! :)**

**School will be starting soon so i'm trying to get as many chapters in as possible because I suck at balancing both fandoms and school xD**

**DISCLAIMER: You'd be a fool to think I own these peeps. It's called fanfiction for a reason xD**

Sherlock and Molly both sat out in the hallway as the night drew upon the rehab center they were in.

They both snuck out of their rooms because they couldn't sleep, and groggily watched the white wall in front of them.

No one said a word at first, none had to be said because they both knew what was crawling in their mind. What had happened the other night...

Sherlock sighed, and eventually broke the silence between them with the obvious statement.

"So... You can't sleep?"

Molly chuckled and replied with a sarcastic tone of voice.

"I could, I just decided not to tonight."

Sherlock grins and rests his hands on his knees pulled up against his chest.

"Yeah... Well, there are two options of what to do."

Molly raised an eyebrow at him and nodded.

"Option one being to escape."

"Sounds awfully tedious right now." Molly answered right away, lifting a corner of her thin lips to smirk at her quip.

"Alright. Option two... Is..." Sherlock racked his brain for a plan B.

"Dance." Sherlock snapped his fingers as he voices his idea.

Molly presses her lips together, meaning she was a bit stressed or embarrassed, and shakes her head.

"Also sounds tedious."

Sherlock scoffed this time, and stood up.

Molly looked down at Sherlock's slippers, the hem of his blue robe visible from her place on the ground, and eventually she sees a hand.

Molly looks up to see Sherlock bent over with a charming smile.

"I... I've never danced."

Sherlock takes her hand, which was eventually held out for him to take, and he pulls Molly on her feet.

Taking one hand, and resting his hand on her waist, Sherlock leaves his smirk on to reassure her she was fine.

"Well, luckily for you, you have a skilled teacher."

Sherlock gently sways him and Molly back and forth, making little circles here and there.

Under the dim hallway light, the moon visible from the window at the end of the hallway became their spotlight, the revving of the vending machine their music, and their beating hearts could be heard from the silence of the world, or the world they were in now which was their own ones with just each other.

Sherlock wasn't quite sure what he was doing, he loved to dance, but he'd never had a partner for whom he was so... Taken with.

He rests the side of his head against Molly's, for whom rests her hand on the back of his neck and rests her cheek against his shoulder, her nose barely touching the skin on his neck. They stayed close, as if one step away would mean loosing each other forever.

Their hands stayed in the air, and looking down, you'd see Molly's toes on Sherlock's slippers, because she was afraid she'd mess this moment up with one wrong move. Sherlock didn't mind, no... It meant she was closer to him.

Molly closed her eyes, and Sherlock grinned so proudly.

Wow... What was this feeling?

This feeling in his stomach?

It was tinging, and warm...

His heart was beating rapidly.

He felt like crying almost.

Did Molly feel the same?

Perhaps...

The way she held onto him, the way she seemed to trust him.

This was all so foreign.

"Sherlock?" A small voice piped up, and Sherlock looked down to see Molly almost asleep against him.

"Yes... Molly?" He said slowly, as if in a trance.

"What's going to happen when we leave?"

Sherlock hadn't thought of this yet, the mere thought of leaving his Molly Hooper alone in the world frightened him.

But... What if she never wanted to see him again?

What if... What if this was nothing?

What were they to each other anyway?

"I do not know..."

Molly looked up from her place on Sherlock's shoulder, and lightly frowned as she strained her neck back to actually see him.

Sherlock and Molly had stopped dancing, and all Sherlock knows was that he had leaned down, and placed his lips on Molly's cheek.

Molly pursed her lips anyways, it was close enough...

Sherlock still held her close, and in the end, Sherlock ended up watching Molly go back to her room, and they parted ways.

"Goodnight, Molly."

"Goodnight, Sherlock."

There were so many unsaid words that night.


	6. Chapter 6

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry my Sherlollians! School started and I just had to delay this a little! Don't worry, i'll be making sure to get to this as quick as possible! :)**

**Anywho! This chapter is very special so please enjoy and COMMENT! I love hearing from you! :D**

Sherlock sat on a swing set on the children's play set for the children who came to visit their parents.

Sherlock had sat out here, looking up at the clear sky.

It was winter time, a few more weeks had passed since his first arrival, and already he just knew that he shouldn't just spend his last few precious weeks with Molly, he had to live them! He had to desperately drink them up because afterwords... There's no telling what would happen.

She had a life, he had a life, he was meant to wander through life alone...

So, he knew that he would make use of these weeks, he'd spend each and every day with her and make sure he doesn't let the words left unspoken stay unspoken.

Molly walks out, a blanket wrapped around her small little body that was bruised and marked with her past, and sat on the swing beside him.

"Hello, stranger." Molly greets with a small nudge of her shoulder.

Sherlock smiles a little and nudges back.

"Hello." He realizes he should probably play along.

"Cutie." He says a bit awkwardly, which makes Molly giggle.

"What are you doing out here? Don't you know you're breaking a rule."

Sherlock makes a "tsk'ing" noise with his tongue, and looks up at the blinking stars.

"Yup. Just checked it off my list."

"Ah, so you're purposely breaking the rules as a game... Which rule you on?" Molly asks slyly, which makes Sherlock look at her with a smirk.

"Like... 30... Only 1 more to go."

Molly smiles and scrunches up her nose.

"Aha... Which one?"

Sherlock raises an eyebrow at Molly, and shakes his head.

"It's more of a rule for me more than anything."

Molly nods and swings a little, just looking up.

"I love the stars... When I was a little girl, i'd open my arms and swing... Like a bird... Pretending I was going to my dad up in Heaven..."

Sherlock smiles a little, and looks up with a sigh.

"My favorite constellation is... That one..."

He points to nothing in particular.

"Why?" Molly asks as she stares up at the night sky with an innocent an childlike expression... The silence of the black and the bright twinkling lights made her imagination run wild.

"Because... See that bright star that twinkles more than any other star... That's you. And that dull one beside it? That's me."

Molly looked at Sherlock with a deep blush, and looked him up and down.

"You aren't dull."

"You haven't seen me at my brightest, darling."

Molly blushed even more at the sound of this new pet name.

She looked back up at the stars, and shakes her head with a little smile.

"No... You're the bright star, i'm just... Not what you think."

Sherlock tilts his head.

"Why?"

Molly shrugs.

"Because... I'm a bad person. You saved me... And I still don't understand why... I'm not exactly the saving type."

Sherlock looks at Molly staring at her hands in her lap, and takes a hold of her fingers.

"Than neither am I. Because if Molly Hooper isn't worth saving, than why would a man like me need to be saved for?"

Molly looks up at him, and feels the tears rising to pour over.

"Why are you saying this?" She cracks, and Sherlock sees for the first time... Molly Hooper, the good girl gone bad, cry.

"Because, contrary to your belief, I... Happen to think you count. You count, Molly."

Molly begins to sob, fingers over her face.

"Why? Why... You don't know me... You don't know who I am."

"You're Molly. A good girl. A good girl who saw me. Me... Not what the media says, not what my counselor says... Me..."

Molly buries her face in her palm, her body shaking, her face puffy and red.

"Why are you crying? Isn't what i'm saying... Supposed to make you... Like me?"

Molly gulps, and nods her head.

"Sherlock... You don't know what you're saying, please... I'm not any of that. I'm... I'm bad, my entire life is full of me being pushed around, of being useless and worthless and full of bad things and-"

Molly doesn't finish.

Because Sherlock had used his free hand not holding Molly's, and gently touched her soggy cheek. He turned her face to face him, and leaned in to plant a soft and gentle kiss on her lips.

Once he pulled away, he saw her awestruck face, and rested his forehead against hers.

With a sigh from Molly, he keeps his hand on the side of his head.

"One day you'll see... Molly Hooper... One day you'll see..."

**Hope this makes up for my absence! :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Hello! Not much to say except I love you :)**

**DISCLAIMER: Ha... Like i'd be clever enough to actually own Sherlock xD**

Sherlock closes the door behind him, and fixes his collar.

Mycroft had paid him a visit.

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.

_A few moments earlier_

Sherlock sat on a chair by the window, fingers perched in prayer hands beneath his chin, eyes closed.

"So... How is the rehab going, brother mine?"

Sherlock opened his eyes and had a disgusted emotion.

"Well... Let me see... Terrible."

Mycroft flicked a tiny speck off his slender fingers and smirked.

"Good... My job here is done."

Sherlock smirked, and raised an eyebrow.

"Sociopath, remember? I don't feel anything. So your job is never done... Brother mine..."

Mycroft rolls his eyes, and crosses his legs, swinging around his umbrella.

"And neither is yours. It would seem you have many unsolved cases since you've been here, Sherlock... One is particular has been... Bugging me..."

Sherlock raises an eyebrow.

"You sound like Lestrade."

Mycroft lets out a huff.

"It involves the Royal Family, Sherlock... In fact... I bet she might be here. In this very... Place... As if... No, that can't be. Forget I brought it up."

Sherlock perks up a bit.

"Royal Family... She... Oh, please do tell..."

Mycroft runs a finger over his forehead.

"Dominatrix."

Sherlock blushes a little and almost looks confused.

"It has to do with sex, Sherlock, don't be alarmed."

Sherlock looks back out the window.

"And for a second I thought it might be interesting."

Mycroft checks his watch and stands.

"I left you a few necessities for the rest of the few weeks you have left here. Don't die until I see you again."

Sherlock stands and clears his throat.

"But who's following me?"

Mycroft turns to Sherlock, and smiles a little.

"Someone you'll never have to worry about. Her name is... Irene Adler. Or, better known as The Woman. She's been... A bit naughty as of late. But I have it under control."

Sherlock smirks as Mycroft closes the door.

"Goodbye... Brother mine." Mycroft coos.

And Sherlock waves.

"The Woman... Hm..."

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Sherlock thinks of this as he walks down to the lunchroom, clad in a nice suit and with his hands behind his back.

Sherlock Holmes was back.

As he walks about, he sees the usual.

Families and such...

Molly with no one, no Tom or anything...

And she smiles at him, then looks almost awestruck.

Sherlock walks to her, and takes a seat in front of her, a small smile on his face.

"Sherlock... You... Look nice." She says a little held back.

"Thank you, you do too." He once again plays along, not sure how these things go.

"So. No family today?" She asks, and Sherlock shakes his head.

"Sadly, yes. My brother paid me a visit." He says regretfully.

"You don't sound too happy about that." She says a bit with confusion.

"No. I do not."

Sherlock's mind seemed somewhere else completely, as he searched the room for a female who was out of place.

"Sherlock... Are you alright?" Molly asks, placing a hand above his.

Sherlock looks back to her, snapping out of it... But not completely.

"Fine... Just... Trying to think..."

He goes to his mind palace.

Everyone in the room is a possible suspect.

But they have to be out of place, fresh looking, new.

Obviously males are out.

The Woman isn't a man.

Now, she has to be new. Obviously Mycroft wouldn't pay a visit to speak of that, and say she seemed to have followed him here, because although he was here a few weeks, she couldn't have tracked him THAT fast.

So, the people he knows are out.

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock looks back, and he inspects her.

Mmm... Dominatrix?

"No." He utters aloud on accident, and goes back to searching the crowd.

Molly crosses her arms and sits back.

"What's gotten into him?" She whispers to herself as she looks about like he was.

He deduces more.

Woman 1: blonde unruly hair, smoker, drug addiction.

Dominatrix?

No... Still a virgin.

Woman 2: brunette (fake), drunk, pale complexion...

Dominatrix?

No, taken and married...

"Sherlock... I'm leaving..." Molly stands up, and Sherlock takes one last look at her.

Dominatrix?

No... Wait, use your head not your heart.

No... No... No, she isn't...

"Ok..." He says aloud for sure this time, and looks back.

Woman 3: dark curly hair... Neat... Pale... Dark eye color... Short... Skinny... Red lipstick... Blue eyeshadow... Obsessed with sex...

Dominatrix?

Oh yes... She must be...

"Hmmm..." He can't make any further deductions, for she seemed rather plain in the usual blue outfits they give to newbies.

Molly walks away, and John Watson sees this happening, and turns to Molly.

"Ms. Hooper?"

Molly looks at him with a small smile.

"Mr. Watson. Something you need?"

Watson looks bewildered, how could Sherlock do this? To her of all people, ignoring her like that...

"No... Just saying hello. Good afternoon..." He nods and walks to the sociopath staring this woman down from afar, and she noticed as she crossed her legs and nodded...

_You're The Woman. _Sherlock said with his eyes.

_Yes, I know. _She winked back, lips parted seductively.

"Sherlock, can I speak to you."

_One moment. _He put a finger up.

_Take all the time you need. _She winked again, turning away to do her own thing.

"Sherlock... Molly Hooper... You're ignoring her."

Sherlock sighs.

"You're a counselor, not a couple's therapist."

John sits next to him with raised eyebrows.

"Now, Sherlock... I may not have had relationships. I may not be an expert on those things. But what you and Molly have... This friendship or what not..."

"Is a thing meant to be left alone."

John squints.

"Alone?"

"Alone... Alone protects me-"

"No, friends do. Molly would. Ignoring her, especially her, is wrong."

"Why? Why do you care?"

John looks at him with an angry smile of sorts.

"Because..." He sighs "because I care about you. You're my friend."

Sherlock's eyes grow a bit wide.

"We're not friends... You're a counselor. Counselor's and patient's aren't meant to be friends."

And with that, Sherlock stands and looks to Adler.

_Nice to meet you. _He says with a single look.

_See you soon. _Adler rests her hands under her chin and watches the man leave.

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What a day, for Mr. Holmes.

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**Sorry it's a bit all over the place :{ but please comment nice things ;)**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Hello Sherlollians! Back in the game! :)**

**So, all you lovelies who adore this story, please share it! I'd love some more feedback, know what you like, what you don't, what you'd change, etc.**

**Other than that... Yeah :)**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**Lestrade: Not her characters.**

**Sherlock: you mean, not her division.**

**Molly: *smacks Sherlock* she's a perfectly talented writer!**

**Sherlock: You're just saying that because it's a romance about us.**

**Lestrade: This isn't my division...**

**Sherlock and Molly: *argue***

**Me: Yeah... ENJOY!**

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Molly sits in her room a few days later, nothing else had happened between her and Sherlock in those "precious days".

She sniffs as she has a bit of a cold, since it was a bit cold outside and Christmas was fast approaching.

Ever since Irene showed up to the Rehab Facility, Molly has been ignored, even after the whole "you do count thing".

Gosh... She felt so stupid for believing him...

Watson has been a bit down too, the whole place was gloomier...

Molly tried to not let it get to her as much, since she knew nothing REALLY happened between her and the sociopath...

But she just... Really... Truly... Wished with all her heart he'd give her a sign, saying "this was never a thing"

Or, what she wanted to hear

"I love you. Please forgive me..."

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Sherlock hadn't talked the The Woman directly, but he had a few times exchanged a few looks, and he has gotten a few notes snuck under his door.

As all this happened, he got a nagging feeling he had done something wrong...

He hadn't spoken to John Watson for a few days.

Nor Molly Hooper...

He knew what he said all those times before, but...

This woman, The Woman, became more interesting than all the others.

Because she was like him, in some ways.

Today, he had finally talked to her, tried to gain information... This case...

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"So, you're The Dominatrix." He says lowly as Irene sits on a chair in a plain room for rehabers and their counselors.

She was clad in a black tshirt and shorts.

"That's what they call me. I prefer The Woman though..." She says with a little smirk, legs crossed as she invades his personal space.

"Ah, yes... The Woman... Why are you here then?"

"Addiction." She answers in a snarky manner.

"I get that. But on what? Not drugs, ypu obviously don't drink. You look perfectly healthy..." He deduces.

"On you, sexy." She rests her chin on her fingers, leaning in once more.

Sherlock sits back a little, making Irene pout.

"Right... Why?"

"Well. I like smart people. Detectives, brainy's the new sexy, you know."

Sherlock fixes his collar, and clears his throat.

"Yes... Right... But what do I have that you need?" Sherlock asks, sighing as he sees Molly walk in, holding herself, shriveled up and sad looking.

They make eye contact, and Molly quickly scurries to John, and they begin to talk a bit as Sherlock looks at them a bit sadly.

"Nothing..." She says a bit curiously, making a connection in her mind.

"What is it that I have that YOU need?" She asks with an accusing look at the man.

Sherlock turns to her with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you obviously loved that girl over there."

Sherlock looks to Molly with a sad expression, for which she returns the look with the same sadness.

Maybe a bit of regret. She turns her head, and looks back to John with a sad smile.

"He'll come around, Ms. Hooper." John counsels her.

"That's not why i'm here... Me and Tom... We've been talking these past few days."

John looks at her with surprise.

"Why?"

Molly shrugs, arms hugging herself.

""Just been a bit sad."

John rests an arm on her shoulder.

"Is it because of Sherlock?"

Molly wonders why he's so keen on her and Sherlock being together, but supposes it's because of how John's method was.

Friendship and all...

"No. Because me and Tom used to date... He um... He says he's better and after i'm out of here he wants us to, um... Wants us to be together again."

John shakes his head and looks at Sherlock who was still talking to that woman in the hallway.

"I see... And do you want that?"

Molly shakes her head.

"I was hoping someone would save me from him for a change... I guess it's me who has to do that again..."

John squints.

"Again?"

Molly looks to John with a frown.

"You think I can't run away?"

John looks back at Sherlock who was alone in the hallway.

.

.

.

Sherlock stands up, done with this petty conversation.

"And I thought I was back in the game..." Sherlock mutters as he reaches the hallway.

Irene follows and grabs his shoulder.

"Ask me... Ask me why i'm here. Why I followed you." She asks, determined to be the leader of this conversation.

Sherlock sighs in annoyance.

"I already did."

Irene nods her head.

"Yeah, but ask me why I went through the trouble."

Sherlock turns around, and rests his hands behind his back.

"Why?"

"Why what?" She asks teasingly.

"Why... Did you go... Through the trouble?"

He asks lowly, standing closer to her.

"Because... Someone wants me to keep an eye on you..." She trails a finger up Sherlock's chest until it was under his chin, pulling his face down to see hers.

"Someone wants you nice and clean so they can hurt you again..."

Sherlock steps back, afraid now.

"Wh-who?" He stutters.

Why?! Why him?!

"You know who..." She whispers and turns around slowly, walking away with a little laugh.

Sherlock looks back into the room he had come from.

He heard Molly say to John.

"You think I can't run away?"

And he knows, or rather thinks, he was now alone.

Not even Molly wanted to be around him.

She wanted to run away.

He didn't know who he could talk to now, who he could vent his worries to.

So he holds it in as he walks back to his room, laying flat on his bed to think... Think... Think...

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**Yay for terrible endings to chapters!**

**Anderson: Comment, for Sherlolly? *grins***


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello my Sherlollions! :D I am updating! Yay! So, enjoy. Hope you enjoy the surprise ;)**

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Sherlock walks up to Molly's door.

With a knock, Molly is there to open it with puffy eyes and a questioning look.

Sherlock too has puffy red eyes and with a sigh he shrugs.

Molly nods, and an unspoken apology lies there.

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.

Nothing happened. Sherlock had jumped on the bed and Molly cautiously scooched herself until she was next to him. Sherlock and Molly just lay flat on their backs on the bed, staring at the ceiling, not a word was spoken, they just lay there, hands on their stomach, Molly's head on Sherlock's shoulder, and Sherlock's cheek resting on her head.

"So... What happened between you and her?"

Sherlock looks questioningly down to Hooper.

"Hm?"

Molly turns on her side, her head still on his shoulder, knees on his knees, and she draws circles on his chest.

"The... Woman."

Sherlock understands, and takes a deep breath.

"It was for a case."

Molly makes a noise, meaning she understood.

"So... You're a detective?" She asks, and looks up a little to see him.

"Yep." He makes a popping noise as he pronounces the word.

"Mm... She was part of the case?"

"Yes... But it isn't over... Unfortunately..." He says with a sadness, and Molly swallows the lump in her throat.

"Oh... So, when you're out... You have to go back?"

Sherlock looks down, and sees the tiny woman looking at him with a bit of fright in her eyes.

"Well... Where else would I go?"

Molly sits up, and rests her hand on his chest as the other holds her up, and Molly tries to think of anything to say.

"With me. We could... We could be together, or perhaps I could go with you."

Sherlock sits up as he runs a few fingers through his hair to shake it out.

"Why? Why would you-"

Molly catches him off guard.

"Because i'm scared... I know... I know I sound clingy and like i'm running away. But the truth is I have to. I have a bad past of drugs and alcohol and things even you wouldn't want to associate with me. And if I go back, if I even step one foot through Tom's door, i'd be lost again..."

Sherlock moves a lock of hair behind Molly's ear and places his hand on her cheek. Molly takes hold of it and buries her lips into it.

"Molly... You are a strong woman. A very very brave woman... I doubt you'd ever get lost."

Molly takes his hand off of her face, and wipes a tear from her other cheek.

"I've heard this before. I understand. You don't need me."

Sherlock tries again.

"Molly, you-"

Molly cuts him off again.

"I do count. I get it, I get it. Just please, save it..."

Sherlock shuts his mouth, and nods.

Molly looks at him with such regret, it physically pains the sociopath, if that makes sense.

"What do you need, Sherlock? With this case, what do you need? If anything..."

Sherlock wipes his forehead, a bit tired of all the stress of what might happen to him once he leaves.

"I don't need anything... Just... I need to go..." He gets up, and tries to make himself tough, make himself seem like he hadn't been crying earlier, or depressed, or anything.

Empty... Empty was what he wanted to be.

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock pauses, and turns to her with more emotion than he had ever wanted to show.

"Sherlock... Sherlock, I-" she stops, and doesn't say "I want to help" or anything. She just stops and looks at him with a look that read everything she'd ever wanted to say.

"Is it true you want to run away from me?" Sherlock asks with a bit of a broken tone of voice.

Molly opens her mouth, and looks confused.

"Run away from you?"

Sherlock nods.

"No..." She answers with a softness and stands up.

Walking to him, he looks down and almost leans in to kiss her again.

Molly dodges it, and he merely kisses her forehead.

"I have to go..."

Molly nods, and Sherlock ironically runs away from his own feelings like Molly runs away from her past.

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Irene had seen it all, him kissing her forehead, and running away.

She looks down at her phone.

Putting it to her ear, she smirks as she leans against the wall.

"Yes?" She hears a voice on the other end, and raises an eyebrow at the tone.

"Are you busy?" She asks in a low voice.

"Well, consulting criminal is my title. I sort of have to hold up to it, don't I?" He says angrily and annoyed.

"Mmm... Anyways... He's been compromised." Adler says, and inspects her black colored nails.

The voice pauses, before chuckling.

"In what way?"

Irene smiles like a Cheshire Cat before answering.

"He's found himself a little mouse... She's awfully cute... I think I might just have my way with her before you do..."

She hears a 'tsk'ing on the other end before an answer.

"Ah ah ah, no can do... You're job here is done, Ms. Dominatrix."

She frowns, and pouts a little before the voice continues.

"I think it's time for the next step... Let him graduate. Let him leave. And then... I think i'll pay him a visit myself... Hm?"

Irene smiles and nods, and answers.

"I do have a few other things I can do."

"Ah yes... The pictures. It looks like we'll have to... Pause a little bit."

Adler's smile falters.

"You mean-"

"I'm sorry, darling. But looks like the shows over. I have more important business to attend to. Enjoy rehab."

And hangs up.

"But you promised you'd get me out! Hello?! Hello?!" She looks to see the time limit on the phone, and then at the wall in front of her.

She's now stuck... Thanks to Jim Moriarty.

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	10. Chapter 10

Hello guys! So this is the end of part one!

I honestly didn't think i'd get this far but lo and behold I did! :)

So please tell me if anyone would want a part two! And I just might!

So... This is it...

I love you.

Rightly so, too.

And I guess if it's the last time I say it...

Sherlollians... I...

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Sherlock and Molly sit in the lobby on Christmas Day.

Everyone was talking about how in a few days, they finally get to leave.

Presents were exchanged, mainly arts and crafts they had made each other, and as usual, Sherlock left early because he felt alone.

Molly follows him, and once she sees him, she taps his shoulder.

"Merry Christmas, Sherlock." She says sweetly, and hands them the present.

Sherlock smiles a bit awkwardly, as if forced, and takes it cautiously.

"Thank you... Molly." He says a bit weirdly, and opens it.

Molly blushes as he sees a clear little rock with a small picture of a yellow smiley face underneath it. A little craft she had made.

"Bit strange, I know. It's all they had." She says softly, and turns.

Sherlock inhales sharply, and calls out.

"Thank... Thank you."

Molly turns and nods.

"You're welcome."

Molly sits next to John, whom smiles kindly to her.

"You give him your gift?"

Molly nods again, and looks a bit frightened.

"You ok?"

Molly shakes her head.

"I don't know where i'm going to go. I know Sherlock won't let me stay with him. It'd be weird."

John sighs.

"I'm going to loose my job. Turns out i've been too... Loose."

Molly smiles sadly.

"Guess we're both on the same page."

John smiles though, ever brightly like a Christmas tree.

"Not retired yet. I still have a few things I have to do. Like... Get you a home and job."

Molly looks bewildered.

"W... What?"

John chuckles.

"Yes. I can do that. What would you like?"

Molly smiles a tiny, hopeful smile.

"Any jobs at St. Bart's open?"

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.

After the holidays, a lot of hugging and crying came with leaving.

Sherlock and Molly both leave at the same time.

They both pack, Molly with her pictures and drawings and ever hopeful gleam in her eyes.

And Sherlock with his little things like suits and Molly's rock.

Sherlock opens the door, and the cold snow hits his face like a slap.

Molly bundles up, and smiles with her little red button nose.

Sherlock turns to her, and diligently fixes her scarf for her.

"So..." He starts off.

"So..." She replies back, both standing in front of each other.

"Where are you off to?" He asks her, a smile gracing his plump lips, curls gently swaying with the wind.

"Waiting for a cab. You?"

Sherlock nods. "Same here."

Molly makes a little "mmm" noise and looks to the snowy parking lot.

"Back to being a detective?"

Sherlock nods, and takes a deep breath.

"You... You could come with, you know. Solve crimes with me... Be my companion... We could... Be... Together... Like you said." He asks with a bit of innocence, a bit of emotion under his cold demeanor that came with being sober.

Molly smiles sadly, and shakes her head.

"I... I'd love to..."

Sherlock smiles and chuckles.

"But... You can't, can you?"

Molly doesn't look him in the eye.

"No... I have a job. At St. Bart's. I'm going to get trained, i'm going to finish what I started. Might end up as a nurse or pathologist or anything I want. Anything i've ever dreamt of... I could do now..."

Sherlock puts on his gloves and lets out his breath.

"That's wonderful. I hope you're very happy."

Molly smiles, still not looking up.

"What would I be doing if I went with you?"

Sherlock thinks before answering.

"Lots of running. Lots of dead people. Lots of... Car chases and... Me being an ass... Lots of dining in... Lots of sleepless nights... Traveling... Seeing things no normal person could handle." He lists off, dazing off a bit.

Molly giggles as she looks up through her eyelashes at him.

"Sounds like fun."

Sherlock chuckles too.

"Not really. I'm boring."

Molly shakes her head.

"Not to me."

They both stand in comfortable silence before a cab finally pulls up.

"For me..." Sherlock says a bit sadly, and sticks his one suitcase in the back seat.

"It's been a pleasure, Hooper."

Molly smiles sadly to him.

"Yeah... So much fun... More fun than possible in a rehab."

They both laugh.

Sherlock sticks a foot in the cab, and Molly gasps.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock turns to her with a wild expression, hoping she'd say she'd come with.

"What was the one rule... The personal one you wanted to break?" She asks.

Sherlock tells the cabbie "one second" and stands back in front of Molly.

"It was this..." He says, and leans down to kiss her cheek.

"It was our friendship."

As Sherlock entered the cab, Molly waves at him and watches it drive away.

Molly's heart sank, and she watches the man she might or might not have loved, forget the night he kissed her and made her feel important.

She looks to the ground, and sees he left something in her pocket when he kissed her cheek.

She pulls out a little box, wrapped in the drawing of Redbeard.

Inside lay a small piece of paper.

It was an address.

221B Baker Street.

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That's it :) I really hoped you liked it, although SUPREMELY short!

I promise part 2 will be longer! ^.^

Yay! Thank you to all 9 or 10 comments, I loved them ALL! And followers and likers! :~ thanks for reading, more to come with a new fanfiction i'm working on! ;D


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